


i feel fine i guess (considering everything's a mess)

by lesbianjeongyeon



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, FLUFFY TOO THO, kinda angsty i guESS??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 10:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10488498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianjeongyeon/pseuds/lesbianjeongyeon
Summary: its like a dream you try to remember but its gone,then you try to scream but it only comes out as a yawn--basically a little one shot based on 2x17.alex wants to get to know maggie in every way.





	

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up @sapphictrinis

You’ve been dating Maggie Sawyer for seven months, two weeks and six days, and you wonder how little you know about her. You know just from your brief courses trying to become a doctor, what trauma is and how it impacts someone telling the truth. You know from working at the DEO multiple psychological aspects of trauma. And you know, that sometimes Maggie doesn’t even realize when she’s holding back.

And you’ve been dating her all this time, and you feel like maybe she’s still a stranger to you.

In some ways, you might even be to her.

You know that Maggie Sawyer does Yoga twice a week at the same studio since she moved here years ago. You know that she’s highly lactose intolerant but eats tiramisu because somethings are just worth the pain, Danvers. You know that she used to date a vegan chef for literally two months and that’s why she insists on making you try those horrible foods.

You know she sleeps on the left, but always spoons you. You know what sounds she makes when she’s so turned on you can feel it in the way the sound’s vibrations seem to go directly to your stomach and cause butterflies. And more.

You know how she takes her breakfast and what stupid songs she listens to, and that she never quite left Nebraska in some ways because you’ve caught her listening to a country song or two. Not that she’d ever admit to it. You know that she read every Hardy Boys book she could get her hands on. You know that she had a detective kid growing up that her aunt still has hidden in her attic.

You know all these things but do you really know your girlfriend?

What things have you missed in the last few days, weeks, months? What quirks or moments has Maggie stopped talking about just to change the subject?

You make a list of all the things you can remember, and when it’s longer than you’ve ever wanted it to be when the words bleed from one page of a notepad to the next, you know it’s too much.

You want to fix this, you know now that things are going to be different, you’re going to be different. You won’t push, but you will ask.

And it starts out slow.

Very slow.

You try your hardest to make your questioning anything but obvious.

Because you want to know Maggie but on your own terms.

One day it goes as normally as it could, while you’re sitting there flipping through channels and somehow end up stuck on a soccer match, bored with live television but too lazy to find the remote to your Netflix.

“You know, I always wanted to play soccer.”   
“Oh really, Danvers?”

“Mhm, but we lived in a beach town and my options really did come down to surfing or volleyball, naturally I did both, but surfing was my passion.”

“How very unstraight of you.”

“What?”

You can’t help but laugh because this is often a conversation you have, this is one too normal for your overly flirtatious selves. The fake arguments or teasing.

“Volleyball, how very unstraight for you.”

“Pft, whatever.”

“Though I didn’t do much better, I played softball until I was about seventeen and fucked up my ankle pretty badly. Good thing I got it fixed up before The Academy.”

“Oh my god, Maggie.”

“It doesn’t matter, it was years ago.”

You try to decide if this is a moment of hidden truths, you never know for sure until it feels as if it is overly obvious that something is being hidden, and you want that to stop. You want this to be comfortable for both of you, so instead you just raise an eyebrow.

“What happened?”

You’re nervous you pushed it, and that she’ll just continue to regard you with this inquisitive glance before changing the subject before once more.

“Well, turns out one of the opposing teammate’s might have been the protective older sister to the girl I kind of slept with before.”   
You try not to grin, but she’s smirking, and it makes your heart flutter just a little bit.

“Oh my god, Maggie,” you repeat but this one is clearly carrying a tone that’s more playful than worried.

“Probably shouldn’t have taken her virtue.”

“Maggie!”

“What!?”

And that’s how it starts. That’s how you get to learn the smaller things, it starts with the both of you offering safe spaces to talk about things as if neither of you can judge.

You start building a home between the two of you.

You start sharing little things, times that you don’t dip into normally because you both have scary and messed up pasts, but you’re so scared that one day something’s going to be too much. She fears this too, you begin to learn.

But you’re both starting to learn that loving someone is accepting their pasts, and making them your future. And you think that might just be the important part.

“I once slept with the same guy twice in the same week, but I was so wasted I didn’t remember him. The worst part, I apparently called him the wrong name, not just on the second night but the first night too. Don’t know how I got Josh and Jonathan from Ryan.”

“Gross, Danvers.”

You grin so wide that she can’t help but smile at you.

“We all make mistakes, Sawyer.”

“Yeah, we do.”

There’s a pause before she continues, and you hold your breath if only in anticipation.

“I suppose maybe accidentally sleeping with a girl’s twin sister thinking she was her while completely intoxicated after you broke said girl’s heart might be considered one of those.”

And you’re full on laughing now when you try to spill the words out.

“Oh Sawyer, that is way worse than mine.”   
“Hey!”

“Well, it is!”

And before you know it, she’s hip bumping you into the kitchen counter you were standing by, and she’s grinning up at you in the same way that always makes you feel the need to kiss her.

So you do, you tug her in by her hips, and she’s got her hands immediately wrapped around your neck.

And you feel like maybe home isn’t always waking up to her bed head and sleepy voice. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s learning about each other in the most simplistic ways possible.

But sometimes? Sometimes it’s painful.

Sometimes it includes crying and holding her until she can breathe until the pain doesn’t feel like it’s consuming every cell in her body. Like every moment is more painful than the next.

Sometimes it’s just keeping her safe.

When she’s had too much to drink and she’s spilling the words out like she’s kept them away hidden from you, and it’s a sin. Even if you’ve never asked and you’ve never pushed, you’re there for her.

“He tried to get in contact with me once.”

And you don’t have to ask who, you already know.

“I thought maybe it was to apologize, but it wasn’t, it was to ask me if I was ready to give up this hideous charade and come home. And that’s when I knew it wasn’t home anymore. For certain.”

You hold her close, and it’s more than half an hour later before she even stops shaking from the sobs she’s released.

And she apologizes, so many times in a minute.

You finally have to interrupt her.

“Maggie, I’m not just here for the good, or the intriguing, I’m here to help you through every bad night and day, and any after that as well. It’s not always pretty, but that’s what I want. I don’t want pretty if it means you’re bottling your feelings. So don’t ever feel sorry for just wanting to talk about something. I don’t care if it happened yesterday or ten years ago if you want to talk about it? Then we do.”

She cries a little more in your arms after that, but after she thinks you’ve fallen asleep when you thought she had, and you finally have rested your eyes, you hear the words.

“You’re my home, Danvers.”

And you know that getting to know here is a life-long process, and you’re ready for it.


End file.
